Middle Huey Spire, Power of Silence; East Huey Spire, Riders on ...
L o g a n M o u n t a in s Middle Huey Spire, Power o f Silence; East Huey Spire, Riders on the Storm, first free ascent. After a long journey in mid-July, Lisi Steurer (A ustria) and I arrived in one o f the m ost beautiful and wildest rock-clim bing areas in the world, the Cirque o f the U nclim bables, in N ahanni National Park. It was real Canadian wilderness— hard to believe for Euros like us. The first days
we worked on the first free (redpoint) ascent o f Riders on the Storm , on East Huey Spire, a 400m clim b supposedly o f Yosemite quality. The first pitch, a 5.9 offwidth, showed us how hard trad climbing can be. Later we enjoyed dihedrals and finger cracks, figuring out how finger- and handjam m in g is su p p o sed to work. On ou r fourth day o f effort, we redpointed the full route and yelled from the tiny sum m it. Back at cam p we visited neighbors from the U.S., w ho’d recently clim bed Lotus Flower Tower. With them were two girls— their ground staff— cooking for their heroes. Food was well p rep ared . We th o u gh t a b o u t fin d in g a b oy s gro u n d s ta ff for us, and su ggested it to ou r frien ds C h ris A tkinson and M arc Piche, who had invited us to the C irque and were w ork ing on p h otograp h s for a new book. They ju st laughed— absolutely not, stupid idea! At 5 a.m. the next day we started climbing the classic Southeast Buttress o f the Lotus Flower Tower by headlamp. The first 5.10 pitch took me a while, because o f wet rock and fatigue. I was completely fucked and could not think about 17 m ore pitches, up to 5.10c, that day. But it got better. The day was sunny, not a cloud, and we felt so lucky and privileged. Clim bing the headwall gave me a big, big smile. Perfect cracks and chickenheads, long pitches and fast climbing. Just before the top I dropped a climbing shoe and climbed the last pitch barefoot, but we reached the top at 2:30 p.m ., nobody there, just me and Lisi and the im m ense scenery o f the Mackenzie M ountains. The next day we saw a beautiful crack system in a huge dihedral with huge roofs on the south face o f M iddle H uey Spire. The 400m face had ju st one route (5.9 A 3), done by an A ustrian team in 1977 (Kosy-Lackner-W eilguny), but the left side o f the face— the m ost solid part, also the steepest— was untouched. After a thunderstorm , we started up again in sunny weather, followed by thousands o f m osquitos. We began with the first two pitches o f the Austrian line (one was an awkward, wet offwidth), before heading into our dihedral. The rock got steeper and solider. Excellent finger- and hand-cracks led to a face pitch. We were installing bolt anchors, but I had tried hard to avoid setting protection bolts. After I took an eight-meter whipper onto a sm all pecker, though, scream ing and stopping next to Lisi, and after another try, I was ready to set a few bolts. In three days o f work we finished our route, with some aid. We placed four protection bolts, enough for freeing the route. After a rest day we returned, and I redpointed every pitch. Power o f Silence (11 pitches, 5.12+/5.13-). O ur fantastic three weeks were over, and we loaded our heavy packs. C hris had been kayaking the Nahanni River, and when we reached the lake he was waiting for us, with great tasting beers and chips and blueberries. I n e s P a p e r t , G erm any
we worked on the first free (redpoint) ascent o f Riders on the Storm , on East Huey Spire, a 400m clim b supposedly o f Yosemite quality. The first pitch, a 5.9 offwidth, showed us how hard trad climbing can be. Later we enjoyed dihedrals and finger cracks, figuring out how finger- and handjam m in g is su p p o sed to work. On ou r fourth day o f effort, we redpointed the full route and yelled from the tiny sum m it. Back at cam p we visited neighbors from the U.S., w ho’d recently clim bed Lotus Flower Tower. With them were two girls— their ground staff— cooking for their heroes. Food was well p rep ared . We th o u gh t a b o u t fin d in g a b oy s gro u n d s ta ff for us, and su ggested it to ou r frien ds C h ris A tkinson and M arc Piche, who had invited us to the C irque and were w ork ing on p h otograp h s for a new book. They ju st laughed— absolutely not, stupid idea! At 5 a.m. the next day we started climbing the classic Southeast Buttress o f the Lotus Flower Tower by headlamp. The first 5.10 pitch took me a while, because o f wet rock and fatigue. I was completely fucked and could not think about 17 m ore pitches, up to 5.10c, that day. But it got better. The day was sunny, not a cloud, and we felt so lucky and privileged. Clim bing the headwall gave me a big, big smile. Perfect cracks and chickenheads, long pitches and fast climbing. Just before the top I dropped a climbing shoe and climbed the last pitch barefoot, but we reached the top at 2:30 p.m ., nobody there, just me and Lisi and the im m ense scenery o f the Mackenzie M ountains. The next day we saw a beautiful crack system in a huge dihedral with huge roofs on the south face o f M iddle H uey Spire. The 400m face had ju st one route (5.9 A 3), done by an A ustrian team in 1977 (Kosy-Lackner-W eilguny), but the left side o f the face— the m ost solid part, also the steepest— was untouched. After a thunderstorm , we started up again in sunny weather, followed by thousands o f m osquitos. We began with the first two pitches o f the Austrian line (one was an awkward, wet offwidth), before heading into our dihedral. The rock got steeper and solider. Excellent finger- and hand-cracks led to a face pitch. We were installing bolt anchors, but I had tried hard to avoid setting protection bolts. After I took an eight-meter whipper onto a sm all pecker, though, scream ing and stopping next to Lisi, and after another try, I was ready to set a few bolts. In three days o f work we finished our route, with some aid. We placed four protection bolts, enough for freeing the route. After a rest day we returned, and I redpointed every pitch. Power o f Silence (11 pitches, 5.12+/5.13-). O ur fantastic three weeks were over, and we loaded our heavy packs. C hris had been kayaking the Nahanni River, and when we reached the lake he was waiting for us, with great tasting beers and chips and blueberries. I n e s P a p e r t , G erm any
